Sixx said
He was possibly the closest friend Spencer had, and now he was lying on the cold, hard ground, bullets ripped through his torso.
Max: Now I'm lying on the cold, hard ground OOOH. OOOH. TROUBLE. TROUBLE. TROUBLE. TROUBLE.
No?
Okay.
Apokalipse
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
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- Apokalipse 12 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
Mom is out of the hospital so I might actually have time to rp but we'll see
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8 yrs ago
'yo sis we need a thot slayer there's too many thots want to join the thot police we're recruiting'
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8 yrs ago
should I return?
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8 yrs ago
If that ain’t a college mood
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8 yrs ago
“Hullabaloo, and howdy doo! Musty prawns, and Timbucktu! Yeltsy-by, and hibbety-hoo! Kick ’em in the dishpan! Hoo hoo hoo!!”
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Wow, Leon, way to ruin the mood.
Max: Now I'm lying on the cold, hard ground OOOH. OOOH. TROUBLE. TROUBLE. TROUBLE. TROUBLE.
No?
Okay.
Max: Now I'm lying on the cold, hard ground OOOH. OOOH. TROUBLE. TROUBLE. TROUBLE. TROUBLE.
No?
Okay.
Veggie Tales. Because Barbara Manatee.
We ate them.
Raffy's having an almost mental breakdown. Don't worry (:< When she manipulates everyone to do her bidding, she'll feel better. MWAHAHA.
Raffy really wanted to say finally. The whole heart-to-heart thing wasn’t typically her style; it had the slight risk of getting attached. Though, Raffy was a bit too cold to get attached easily. She preferred the artificial bonding over shared interests’ route; it gave her room to maneuver. Raffy kept a sincere, apologetic countenance despite her annoyance, her eyes wide and her mouth frowning somewhat. Every once in a while she would change it vaguely as to give the impression she was harmlessly thinking. The official manipulation would begin tomorrow and she was excited, giddy even. Raffy, after all, wasn’t happy unless she was in control.
“Let’s talk ‘bout something else.” Raffy uttered, clearing her throat in ersatz discomfort. “I…really like the movie Jaws. Not the second or third, but the first original one. Old movies are so good. Has anyone ever seen The Breakfast Club? Best movie ever, I say.”
Raffy wasn’t lying. She loved these movies with a passion, and she didn’t want to think about their situation. She didn’t want to think about their town of ashes. Raphaela wanted to focus on the mindlessness she received when watching a good movie, when she ignored everything that happened around her in preference to a moving picture. Raffy felt like crying, not because she was sad, but because she was angry. She lost nothing, she was fine, she still had herself. Except for control. She was not in control and she needed to have control. Raffy bit down the feelings, promised herself power; promised herself that, in the morning, everything would be fixed. The tears died down and she waited for someone’s response to her questions.
“Let’s talk ‘bout something else.” Raffy uttered, clearing her throat in ersatz discomfort. “I…really like the movie Jaws. Not the second or third, but the first original one. Old movies are so good. Has anyone ever seen The Breakfast Club? Best movie ever, I say.”
Raffy wasn’t lying. She loved these movies with a passion, and she didn’t want to think about their situation. She didn’t want to think about their town of ashes. Raphaela wanted to focus on the mindlessness she received when watching a good movie, when she ignored everything that happened around her in preference to a moving picture. Raffy felt like crying, not because she was sad, but because she was angry. She lost nothing, she was fine, she still had herself. Except for control. She was not in control and she needed to have control. Raffy bit down the feelings, promised herself power; promised herself that, in the morning, everything would be fixed. The tears died down and she waited for someone’s response to her questions.
Elora Nicholi (and still with Edna)
On the streets of Deliar
Edna was once a beautiful woman with tresses as red as Elora's. Brown, hazel small eyes were positioned on both sides of her up-turned nose. Now, her face was sagging and her hair was wiry and gray. Wrinkles adorned her face like flowers in a garden. Her once lean, curvaceous body has become weak and fattened. Edna's cheeks were always an intense rubicund and her eyesight was beginning to fail. It would be hard to guess that she was only a woman of fifty. Elora suspected her premature aging was a result of the stress of motherhood...or maybe just the stress of her. Elora was never the easiest to deal with, that was a fact.
"Ma, where are we going?" Elora grunted, her arm in the clutches of the irritated woman. The redhead was stumbling and tripping as she tried to keep up with the charging mother.
The bulky necklace around Edna's neck slapped against her collarbone and her daughter was afraid it would bruise. The older woman acrimoniously shimmied between two toned men who were crowding around someone. If Elora was correct, then it was the blacksmith that lived somewhere nearby. She gave an apologetic smile and waved at the trio as she trampled on by, shouting over her shoulder, "Sorry, she's not in a good mood!"
It was then that Edna decided to speak once more. "Oh, you are trouble! And at such a time, too! It's dangerous, dangerous! Elora did you hear me - the streets are dangerous!"
"You don't have to say it thrice, ma, I understand. The streets are not safe." Elora droned, rolling her eyes as snow fell onto her shawl.
"You obviously don't understand! The rumors are what got be worried." The aged Nicholi cried, wrapped her own serape tighter.
"Rumors, what rumors?" Elora inquired, as she was a girl who never dwelled on outside manners. Edna stopped in her tracks and pulled the girl closer to her, her fat pointer finger tapping the young tailor's nose twice. "There are rumors, dear, of something coming out, rumors. A group wanting to take over - it's dangerous."
Elora licked her lips nervously.
On the streets of Deliar
Edna was once a beautiful woman with tresses as red as Elora's. Brown, hazel small eyes were positioned on both sides of her up-turned nose. Now, her face was sagging and her hair was wiry and gray. Wrinkles adorned her face like flowers in a garden. Her once lean, curvaceous body has become weak and fattened. Edna's cheeks were always an intense rubicund and her eyesight was beginning to fail. It would be hard to guess that she was only a woman of fifty. Elora suspected her premature aging was a result of the stress of motherhood...or maybe just the stress of her. Elora was never the easiest to deal with, that was a fact.
"Ma, where are we going?" Elora grunted, her arm in the clutches of the irritated woman. The redhead was stumbling and tripping as she tried to keep up with the charging mother.
The bulky necklace around Edna's neck slapped against her collarbone and her daughter was afraid it would bruise. The older woman acrimoniously shimmied between two toned men who were crowding around someone. If Elora was correct, then it was the blacksmith that lived somewhere nearby. She gave an apologetic smile and waved at the trio as she trampled on by, shouting over her shoulder, "Sorry, she's not in a good mood!"
It was then that Edna decided to speak once more. "Oh, you are trouble! And at such a time, too! It's dangerous, dangerous! Elora did you hear me - the streets are dangerous!"
"You don't have to say it thrice, ma, I understand. The streets are not safe." Elora droned, rolling her eyes as snow fell onto her shawl.
"You obviously don't understand! The rumors are what got be worried." The aged Nicholi cried, wrapped her own serape tighter.
"Rumors, what rumors?" Elora inquired, as she was a girl who never dwelled on outside manners. Edna stopped in her tracks and pulled the girl closer to her, her fat pointer finger tapping the young tailor's nose twice. "There are rumors, dear, of something coming out, rumors. A group wanting to take over - it's dangerous."
Elora licked her lips nervously.
Sorry for a short post, btw. I didn't know what else to write.
"I'm fine." Bryony answered absentmindedly, drawing faces into a new slice of toast. She put in a lot of effort in carving a duck into the butter that she had earlier spread onto it. “How are you? Spectacularly awesome?”
Just that moment, an owl swooped overhead and dropped a letter into her lap. Bryony smiled happily and waved twice at the bird. She opened the giant envelope, her finger slitting the opening whilst humming.
Dear Bryony,
How are you doing at Hogwarts? Mum had gotten a raise in her work and is hosting a charity raise. Pa had been busy with business, which is booming this season, and is thinking of opening up a joke shop. We miss you and love you.
Love,
Mum and Pa
Just that moment, an owl swooped overhead and dropped a letter into her lap. Bryony smiled happily and waved twice at the bird. She opened the giant envelope, her finger slitting the opening whilst humming.
Dear Bryony,
How are you doing at Hogwarts? Mum had gotten a raise in her work and is hosting a charity raise. Pa had been busy with business, which is booming this season, and is thinking of opening up a joke shop. We miss you and love you.
Love,
Mum and Pa
Elisabetta Ahlstrom took a bit of the chocolate cake, the baked goods going smoothly down her throat. The Huldra had decided to walk to the academy with nothing but a backpack which was stock full of cake batter for the road. Her tail was getting agitated and tried to move where it was bunched in her jeans; multiple times Etta had to shift when nobody was looking. Useless humans bumped into her multiple times and on more than one occasion, Etta felt like strangling them - luckily she was able to resist.
It was a three hour walk, and she finished half of her chocolate cake, when she arrived to the Academy. Her legs ached and her hollow back itched; her tail was sweating - how that was possible, she didn't know - and she just wanted to let it breath. Redthorn Academy was a-bustling with creatures and when nobody was looking, she released the tail from the itching confines. She hoped no one would comment on her tail.
It was a three hour walk, and she finished half of her chocolate cake, when she arrived to the Academy. Her legs ached and her hollow back itched; her tail was sweating - how that was possible, she didn't know - and she just wanted to let it breath. Redthorn Academy was a-bustling with creatures and when nobody was looking, she released the tail from the itching confines. She hoped no one would comment on her tail.
"I never even fucking bullied you!" Helen said exasperated, her fear pulsing in her veins. "What the hell are you on, Cara? No one has done anything to you."
Helen itched at her arms, a nervous habit, and began counting to ten. If this escalated, she would have to do something - that was a fact. Cara was small, weak, a frontal attack would be easy. The best way was if Helen got her arms around Cara's neck, that would work best; she could subdue her until she passed out and then they could figure out what to do from there. She was obviously insane, she had to be insane. No one else would put this much effort into a scary ass party.
"Look, Cara, just don't do anything you shouldn't."
Helen itched at her arms, a nervous habit, and began counting to ten. If this escalated, she would have to do something - that was a fact. Cara was small, weak, a frontal attack would be easy. The best way was if Helen got her arms around Cara's neck, that would work best; she could subdue her until she passed out and then they could figure out what to do from there. She was obviously insane, she had to be insane. No one else would put this much effort into a scary ass party.
"Look, Cara, just don't do anything you shouldn't."
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